Three Conversations About a Pirate
by LizaCameron
Summary: Emma's continued insistence that she wants to take Henry back to New York and her denial about Hook's place in her life, fuels three conversations with the people closest to her.


Three Conversations about a Pirate

NOTE: I wrote this after the first Hook/Emma sneak peek released for _The Jolly Roger. _It combined with _It's Not Easy Being Green _had made me feel that Emma's rough treatment of the people closest to her and ocean-sized denial about her life in NYC had reached its apex and she badly needed some giant clues sprinkled all over her. So this fic attempts to do that. It was written before the additional sneak peeks were released, so it diverges from the third Emma/Regina sneak peek significantly. Fair warning Emma continues to be a bit of a pill in this (but she comes around.)

* * *

Emma was sitting cross-legged in the middle of Regina's mayoral office concentrating on the small ball of fire that was hovering right in front of her face.

Regina leaned against the desk watching her pupil with a keen eye. With her usual brusque tone she asked, "Where's Henry today?"

"With Hook," Emma replied without looking up, but the interruption was enough to make her lose focus and the fireball she'd conjured disappeared with a poof of smoke. "You made me lose concentration," she huffed.

"A skilled practitioner of magic needs to be able to maintain concentration while focus is split," Regina lectured as if by rote, before adding curiously, "So Henry's with Hook, that's becoming a regular thing?"

Emma eyes narrowed as she prepared to conjure another fireball. "Henry likes him."

Regina's eyes went wide, forming a knowing expression. Under her breath she muttered, "Like mother, like son."

Or it was almost under her breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma snapped. Her eyes flashed with angry indignation, all magical concentration now forgotten.

Regina looked at her with a bored expression. "My meaning is obvious to anyone with basic language comprehension skills. Henry likes Hook, you like Hook."

"I do not." Emma said without hesitation, her face most reminiscent of a stone mask.

"Is that right?" Regina chuckled. "Well then, you certainly choose to spend a lot of time with someone you don't like."

"I haven't chosen to do anything," Emma huffed, thinking of their conversation that morning and the way he'd butted into her business. "He's… he's insinuating, self-involved and he never changes." At that the fireball once again reignited right in front of Emma, twice the size and more powerful than it had been before.

"And he seems to excite a certain amount of emotion in you. Good. Use it." Regina ordered. A moment later she added, "As far as him not changing, if you're talking about his clothes, I agree, he's long overdue for a wardrobe refresh."

Emma didn't answer at first; instead her eyes were on the fireball in front of her. For a moment she focused everything on it, concentrating on moving it from left to right, exercising her will over it. Once she had succeeded, she attempted to split her focus as Regina had instructed her to do.

While continuing the exercise, Emma said, "I'm talking about the fact that he's a pirate, and will always be a pirate. Everything he does is motivated by selfish desire."

"Wow." Regina's voice was incredulous as her lips formed an exaggerated version of the single syllable.

"What?" Emma asked, her eyes not leaving the fireball.

"There's no love lost between me and our local leather fetishist and even I think that's harsh."

Emma didn't answer, choosing instead to reverse the direction the fireball was traveling.

Regina watched her successfully move the glowing orb for several beats before turning her attention back to the conversation. "Far be it from me to ever be a Hook-apologist, but when it comes to you it seems to me he's become annoyingly selfless. Plus he's your biggest fan."

"Complimenting me in order to get me into bed, isn't selfless, it's the definition of selfish." Emma spit the words as the fireball in front of her emitted a loud crack and grew even larger.

Regina studied Emma thoughtfully as she watched the other woman's power grow. Maybe she'd discovered the key in getting Emma to unleash the full potential of her magic. She decided to press it further. "So… let me get this straight, today Hook spending the whole day with Henry, that's to get you into bed?"

"Since he came on to me this morning when I asked him for a favor, yes, that's my assumption," Emma replied as the fireball began to rise upwards.

"Good," Regina replied, her voice betraying how pleased she was at Emma's progress. "Now stand up. I want you to walk around the room while you keep concentration."

Emma complied by pushing herself to her feet and then slowly backing away from the ball of fire, still keeping her eyes on it the entire time.

Regina gave her just a few seconds to adjust before she nonchalantly said, "Helping our son deal with and understand Neal's death… that was a selfish act designed to get you into bed?"

Emma was suddenly slightly less sure of herself, but that was only betrayed by a slight twitch of her eye. She didn't answer, the fireball, however, crackled.

Regina's lips quirked upwards. She continued to push her pupil. "Doing whatever you ask whether it's standing guard at Gold's shop, the hospital or patrolling the woods, is that to get you into bed?"

"Probably," Emma sneered angrily as the fireball grew infinitely hotter. Regina felt the wave of heat hit her from her position in front of the desk.

"Keep moving. Why did you stop walking?" Regina taunted with a terse tone. Emma's mouth was dry. She needed water, but she said nothing and instead began to circle the room. Regina gave her a few seconds to get her bearings before beginning again.

"And doing whatever he did to cross realms and find you in New York City, was that just to get you into bed?"

Now the fireball pulsed and brightened from a yellow-orange to an almost blinding, intense white. Emma said nothing, but she clenched her fists and her jaw tightened as a bead of sweat rolled down her forehead.

"So all those things were just to get Emma Swan into bed," Regina's voice had taken on a sing-song quality as she said the words. She continued, now her voice dripping with acid. "No offense, honey… but a roll in the hay with you isn't worth all that."

At that the fireball hissed and with lightening speed hurled towards Regina. She deftly stepped out of the way of the speeding inferno and it crashed into her desk and the entire thing went up in flames.

Unruffled, Regina merely put her hands out and used magic to quell the flames. She turned back towards a flabbergasted Emma and said with sarcastic calm, "That was an antique."

Emma's eyes went wide in shock as she fully processed what had happened. "I'm… I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's alright, once we get Gold away from the green one's control he can find me a new one. On the bright side, we've found your emotional trigger… your pirate."

"He's not my pirate." Emma said as she knelt down to rummage through her bag for a bottle of water. Once she found it she gulped down the cool liquid.

Regina motioned to the rubble that was at one time her desk. "Me thinks the lady doth protest too much. Seems like everything he does… is for you. And I don't think it's just to get you into bed. He's undoubtedly at your beck and call." Then with a sardonic sigh she added, "It seems all the villains around here eventually go soft."

Emma scowled at the other woman. "He's not at my beck and call."

"Patrol the woods, Hook. Guard Belle, Hook. Entertain Henry, Hook. Sit, Hook. Stay, Hook." Regina had reverted to sing-song voice, but now she spoke bluntly, "Whatever you're trying to sell him and possibly everyone else about your indifference, I'm not buying. The proof is right there." She once again pointed to the incinerated desk. "So figure it out before you accidentally blow up the wrong witch."

Emma began to protest, but Regina interrupted her. "Don't worry, it's good. We can use it, provided you learn to control it."

"How do I do that?" Emma asked in an uncharacteristically small voice.

"Actually, I don't know. For me, the emotion that fueled my magic was always anger. You're different. Whatever it is that Hook makes you feel, that, at least in part, is what fuels yours. You probably need to identify it before you can start to control it."

"I don't…" Emma knit her brows. "I don't know what he makes me feel."

Regina studied the other woman for a moment. "You know, Emma, it's recently come into clear focus that I've made some really bad decisions along the way because I was too afraid to open myself up…" Regina swallowed hard before she continued "…to people. Don't be like me or like I used to be. Don't overlook or take for granted what's right in front of you, because you're scared of what it might mean."

For a second Emma's expression had begun to soften. But almost as quickly it hardened and her mask was back in place. "You know what? I don't want to talk about this. It's none of your business."

Regina rolled her eyes. "You're right. And frankly this tale of a princess and her pirate could not be more boring. However, we have to get you ready to battle my loving sister, so you're going to need to work on identifying and controlling your emotions; in the mean time, get ready to go again."

"How'd it go?" Mary Margaret asked anxiously the moment Emma entered the loft. Regina teaching Emma how to use her magic was still an unsettling thought for her mother.

"I firebombed Regina's desk." Emma replied, her voice deadpan.

"Is that a good thing?" Her mother asked with wide eyes.

"Regina seems to think so. Or it would have been if I'd intended to do it." Emma sat her bag on the floor and then slumped into a seat near Mary Margaret in the living room.

"Emma." David started down the stairs. "I thought I heard you. How'd it go?"

Mary Margaret answered for her. "Apparently our daughter is a pyromaniac."

"Not a pyromaniac, just unable to properly channel my emotions to control the magic." Emma shook her head and then muttered under her breath, "Hook."

"Hook?" David asked curiously, "What about him?"

Emma looked startled that he'd heard her and the last thing she wanted to do was explain something that she didn't understand herself. How the emotions he triggered in her fueled her magic. "What? Oh nothing… he's uh… he was… I… he's aggravating me."

"Sounds like Hook." Mary Margaret's demeanor was a tad on the smug side.

"What's he doing?" David asked, sounding slightly concerned. "Nothing to do with Henry, I hope?"

"No, yes, well… Henry's fine. Henry likes him… and Hook is good with him. It's not that. It's just when I took Henry over there this morning-"

"Over where?" Mary Margaret interrupted. "I thought Henry was going fishing with Leroy again today?"

"He was. At least that's what I arranged. But then Henry said he'd rather go hang out with Ho…Killian, so I went to see him and…" Emma trailed off, scowling at the memory.

"What?" Mary Margaret prompted her.

"He started lecturing me about my plan to go back to New York after this is all over, talking about how you can't go back to who you used to be, basically sticking his nose where it doesn't bel..." Emma trailed off when she saw the look on her mother's face. "What?"

"You're going back to New York?" Mary Margaret voice was soft and unassuming, however she looked as if her heart was in her throat and she was trying to swallow it back down.

Emma's eyes immediately found David. "You didn't tell her?"

"You knew?" Mary Margaret turned to eye her husband, a hint of betrayal flashing across her eyes.

"Emma mentioned something to me. But I thought she would come to her senses and there was no need to upset you." Now he looked at his daughter. "You haven't come to your senses?"

"How can you ask me that?" Emma replied tersely. "Henry's father just lost his life. It's not safe here. I have to do what's best for Henry."

David came around the room so he was in front of the two ladies, he perched on a table. "And no one ever loses their life in New York City?"

"That's not the point." Emma furrowed her brow at him.

"Then what is?" Mary Margaret asked patiently, with a clear desire to understand.

"Henry wants to go back." Emma shrugged. "He had friends there and school."

"Henry doesn't know what he wants." Mary Margaret tried to keep her voice even. "He doesn't know who he is, he doesn't have the facts."

"Are you suggesting I tell him that he's the grandson of Snow White, Prince Charming and Rumpelstiltskin? That his newest friend is Captain Hook? That the waitress that's so nice to him at Granny's is Red Riding Hood? I wouldn't even know where to start to make him believe."

"He made you believe." Her mother said simply.

Emma was struck dumb for a moment at the truth of that statement. She hadn't thought of it in those terms. However, she quickly recovered and shook her head, "I can't. Going back is what's best. For everyone."

"How can you say that!?" Mary Margaret demanded, sounding angry. It was such a rare emotion to see from her, especially directed at Emma. Emma actually felt herself recoil slightly. "It wouldn't be what's best for me, or your father, or your new brother or sister or any of the people here in Storybrooke who care about both of you. It certainly wouldn't be best for Regina. Have you thought about Regina?"

"Since when do you care about Regina?" Emma asked, feigning ignorance. However, she wasn't able to hold her mother's eye. She allowed her focus to wander to a scuff on the thigh of her jeans.

"I care about Henry. She's Henry's mother." Mary Margaret voice held sympathy, but also a firm note.

"I'm Henry's mother!" Emma said fiercely. "And I will decide what's best for him."

"Yes. No one can ever take away the fact that you're his mother. But that's not the full story, is it?"

"What're you getting at?" Emma asked irritably.

Mary Margaret looked like she was near tears, but instead of succumbing; she took a deep breath and reached over for her daughter's hand. It wasn't easy, with her pregnancy, but she managed. "Emma, forgive me, but the truth is you gave Henry up for adoption. Regina adopted him. There is nothing, not even the loss of his memories that can change that. There is a relationship there. You can't ignore it."

"Like we can't ignore the decision you made to give me up?" Emma leveled the charge with heat behind her words.

Part of Mary Margaret wanted to drop her daughter's hand and admit defeat. But she didn't instead she looked at her with all the love she could muster. "Yes. You're right, we can't ignore it. We pay every day for the decision we made. I have a daughter I love with all my heart, who…" She swallowed roughly, "Doesn't want me in her life. It's a steep price, I assure you," Mary Margaret said sadly.

Emma sagged back in her chair, but replied with a more tepid tone, "It's not that I don't want you in our lives. I have to think of Henry first. Our life there was good. There wasn't a vile villain trying to destroy me and everyone I care about at every turn."

At that, David cleared his throat, ready to enter the conversation again.

"What?" She snapped at him.

"We haven't talked about it much, but how long did you date this Walsh person?"

She stared at him hard for a moment before answering, "Eight months."

"So for the majority of this good life you had in New York the person you were closest too, besides Henry, was a monster. A villain. A minion of the same person who threatens us here?"

At that Emma just narrowed her eyes, but on the inside she felt her stomach squeeze into a ball. There was no arguing that. Evil had found her in New York. All of her arguments were unraveling.

"And you haven't been around Regina as long as your mother or I have. If you take Henry, without her permission, I have no idea what she'll do. But you might bring evil back to the woman that caused all of this heartbreak to begin with and if that happens, I'm not sure there is any place on earth you could hide from her."

"Even if it's what's best for Henry?"

"Is it best for Henry?" Her mother asked softly.

Emma didn't answer, she just shrugged.

At that Mary Margaret nodded once, trying to take an objective view. "Perhaps she'll agree. Have you talked to her about it?"

Emma tried to look unbothered. "No."

"Well, now you've brought it up leaving with us, you've brought it up with Hook. What's stopping you from bringing it up with Regina?"

Emma tried to look unbothered by the question. "Maybe I will." But she didn't sound remotely convinced that it was a good idea.

"You'll do what you think is best." Mary Margaret said, trying to sound as supportive as she could.

Emma swallowed hard once, but it was hard. Her mouth was dry. But that's not all that was wrong. Her heart was racing and she felt overwhelmed. She knew she needed to leave. She jerked to her feet.

"You're going?" asked David with concern.

"I have to go pick up Henry."

"Why don't you stay here?" David suggested. "Talk some more with your mother. I'll go pick up Henry from Hook."

"No." Emma shook her head quickly. "I… uh… I need some air. A walk will do me good."

"Okay." David gathered her bag from the floor and gently handed it to her.

A second later he was opening the door. She was a step or two down the hall when he said her name softly.

She turned back to him expectantly.

He gave her a half smile before he cleared his throat and began to speak. "I have a daughter who will never forgive me for not giving her the life she should have had, that she was born to. Please don't make the same mistake. If you take Henry away from here and some day he remembers, are you prepared for him to never forgive you for stealing his real identity? Remember Henry's first eleven years were really spent here in this town. Everything else is a lie. Have a safe walk, Emma. We'll see you tomorrow."

And with that David shut the door to the loft. For a long moment Emma stood there staring at the closed door, her mind, and everything else, in a confused whir.

"Did you have fun with Killian today?" Emma asked as they sat in a booth at Granny's as Ruby delivered their burgers to the table.

"Yes, he taught me about prestidigitation."

At that Ruby paused, looked from son to mother and back again and chuckled lightly. "You're gonna have your hands full."

Emma smirked at her slightly before turning back to Henry. "What's prest-i-dig-i…"

"Prestidigitation. Sleight of hand. It's like magic."

At that Emma choked on her sip of water. Once she stopped sputtering, she managed to ask, "Magic?"

"Well a magic trick. Like Houdini or Copperfield."

Emma nodded once; letting it sink in that both of them had spent the day learning magic. "Right…"

"He taught me how to vanish a coin in one hand. He says the key is misdirection. He taught me to misdirect using the hand without the coin. It's a bit harder for him because he only has one hand, you know, but he says sometimes that's an advantage when it comes to distraction. It's pretty cool. The kids back home are going to be amazed. When're we going back to the city, mom?"

Emma looked at her burger. That morning she would have been able to look her son in the eye and tell him that as soon as her business was finished they would be headed back, but now she was anything but sure. On one hand she knew that any chance of normalcy for Henry required them to leave. On the other hand, he wasn't normal. None of them were.

Emma finally just shrugged. "I don't know. Don't you like it here?"

"Yeah, it's alright. I'd like it more if I knew anyone my own age, but it's cool. You're different here."

At that Emma started. She asked quizzically, "What do you mean?"

"Well in New York, besides Walsh you didn't really have anyone. Any friends. Here you have Killian and David and Mary Margaret and Regina and Belle and Leroy and Granny and Ruby and..."

"Okay, okay, kid. I get it."

"My favorite is Killian, though. And Ruby," He added in an almost bashful tone as his eyes flitted to the comely waitress.

Emma didn't fail to notice and it was an instant reminder that her son was almost a teenager, no longer a little boy. He was a young man who could probably handle the truth.

Henry was still speaking. "…I might not mind staying, if you told me what's really going on here."

"Yeah?" Emma looked at him appraisingly, but with fresh eyes. "You think you could handle it?"

"I spent all day with a one-handed guy in a leather suit. And I had a good time." Henry said matter-of-factly. "I think I can handle it."

"Good point." Emma conceded as she took a sip of her drink.

"Did you know Killian used to have his own ship?" Henry asked as he took a bite of his burger.

"I did know that."

"Have you been on it?"

Emma's first instinct was to lie, but then she decided that was a crutch she could no longer lean on. "I have."

"What was it like?" Henry asked eagerly.

"Big." Emma replied with a smile. "And… rustic. It was pretty old. But it had these beautiful, massive white sails."

"Sounds pretty awesome; I wish I could see it."

"I'm sure if you ask nice, he'll take you out on it. Do you want me to ask him?" Emma asked as she held half of her burger in one hand and shook ketchup on to her fries with the other.

"Oh, he can't. He doesn't have it anymore."

Emma froze, the ketchup, however, continued to ooze from the bottle.

"Mom, the ketchup!" Henry cried when it became apparent his mother wasn't going to rescue her fries from the red onslaught.

That shook Emma out of her momentary trance and she turned the bottle upright and sat it on the table. She took a deep breath and focused on Henry. "What do you mean he doesn't have it anymore?"

"He said a few months ago he sold it, or traded it, or something, he wasn't very clear."

Emma felt the air in her lungs catch. "He sold it? But he loved that ship."

"I know. I could tell by how he talked about it. I even asked him why he sold it if he loved it so much."

"What did he say?" Emma's voice had been reduced to a breathy whisper. It was all she could muster at the moment.

"He said he loved something else more and he had to make a choice." Henry shrugged as if it was no big deal and took a bite of his burger. But it was a big deal to Emma. A very big deal.

Awareness rushed through her like lightning during a spring storm. Every nerve ending jangled as if live with electricity. She knew without a doubt what he loved more than his ship. What, or more appropriately who, he apparently loved more that the Jolly Roger, his home for hundreds of years. His most prized possession, the number one thing that symbolized and enabled his life as a pirate. She'd still been holding onto a half of her burger, but now it dropped unceremoniously to the plate. She couldn't even think about eating. She could barely think about breathing.

Emma saw her life flashing before her eyes, or at least her life as it pertained to Killian. Every moment, every conversation, every interaction was boiled down to a brief image, a sensation or a snip it, but she took it all in. Every clue about how he felt, every wayward innuendo, every selfless act was suddenly crystal clear. Everything she'd always known, but refused to see was now in sharp, irrevocable focus.

How could he have done that? Why? Suddenly she had to know. It couldn't wait another minute. As far as she knew he was upstairs in his rented room. She had to go there. Now. She had to find out everything.

Even though she'd just been sitting, she was breathless when she spoke. She began sliding out of the booth. "Henry, I have to run upstairs for a few minutes, will you be okay down here alone?"

Henry unconsciously reached over for his portable game as his eyes flitted over to Ruby. "I'll be fine."

"Okay, but when I get back there's something we need to talk about."

At her serious tone, she was able to reclaim his attention. "What?"

"The truth. I need to tell you the truth about Storybrooke. We can't make a decision about staying or going until you know everything."

"Really?" Henry looked incredibly eager. It was all he'd wanted since he arrived and began to take notice of the oddities in the little town.

"Really." Emma nodded, not sure how she felt about it, but suddenly knowing it was the right thing to do. "If I'm longer than I think, go ahead and go upstairs and you can watch TV until I get back."

"Okay." He shrugged happily. As he resumed playing his game, Emma was already gone.

Racing up the stairs.

To her pirate.

The End.


End file.
